Hey, Reddit! So, I’m doing a little experiment. I’m one of those weird people who don’t drink coffee. Insane, right? Well, it’s not by choice. See, I’m not supposed to drink coffee. Makes me sick. Back in college I’d brave it for those few hours of pure energy, riding off the high of being productive. But my heart couldn’t manage the rush. After a couple frantic hospital visits, my boyfriend forced me to promise to stick to decaf teas. And I have!
Well, until now.
There’s this work report I need to get in by tomorrow. There’s no way I’ll make it through the night without caffeine, so I’m going to test whether or not my tolerance has sorted itself out over the years. I thought it might be kinda fun to post how it goes here. My boyfriend’s not gonna be happy but, y’know. He doesn’t have to know. He’s on night shift tonight anyways.
Oh, fair warning…I’ll probably turn on voice to text just to make things easier, so sorry for any errors. I’ll try and clean it up before I post.
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I can hardly remember how to make it. It’s easy enough to figure out, though. Just hot water and coffee grounds. I swallow it fast, ignoring the bitter aftertaste and the burning on my tongue. I could have sweetened it, but used to black work best to get me into the “zone”.
And it still does! It’s been, what, two hours? And I’m already done the report. See, I tell myself. You overreacted. Your body’s probably learnt how to handle coffee like a normal human now!
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I was wrong. The effects are hitting me in full force. Leg moving a mile a minute, trembling so much I can see my mug shift off the side of the table from my tremors. I’m so cold. I think I was supposed to be doing something but my hands shake too much to even type properly. I’ll just sleep it off, try and beat the inevitable crash.
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I can’t sleep. I’m itching. My skin. No. Not my skin. Underneath it. Itching. Itching. A thousand baby spiders under my epidermis. I like spiders. I don’t want them in my skin, though. It’s not healthy for them.
I need- I need to…to get them out!
Right!
Good thing I’ve been growing my nails.
I scratch at my arms until the flesh peels back in thin ribbons. It reminds me of high school, sitting catatonic in the dark, staring at a screen and trying to decipher the notes there. Picking at my lip absentmindedly, until the skin peeled away and blood dried under my nails. It reminds me of that.
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The spiders aren’t in my arms anymore.
They’ve moved to my face.
I need to get them out.
They’ll die if I don’t.
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In my eyes now. Tricky buggers. Making my corneas itch.
I’m going to have to apologise to my boyfriend for the spiders. He hates them. But I can’t leave them here.
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It’s dark now. But I’ve gotten them out!
Click.
That’s the door. My boyfriend’s home.
Thump, thump, thump. His shoes. Then a creak. I think he sees me.
“I’m sorry about the spiders love! I know you hate them but I needed to get them out!” I smile and point at my eye socket. The finger plunges straight in.
“Oops! Sorry, it’s the coffee, haha. I know, I know. I had a report to finish, though.” It’s still dark. I can’t hear what he’s saying.
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Verdict: I need to lay off the coffee. It makes me sick.